


Life Doesn't Discriminate

by ladyarcherfan3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, Force Ghost Luke Skywalker, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 02:37:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyarcherfan3/pseuds/ladyarcherfan3
Summary: After the events of The Last Jedi, Leia struggles with her grief and anger and wonders why she is still fighting after all of her losses.





	Life Doesn't Discriminate

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to glorious_clio for her beta work. Any mistakes remaining are mine. Title is from Hamilton's Wait for It.

Leia had never seen the apparitions that Luke had dubbed “Force ghosts”. Years ago, he explained about them while discussing the Force and trying to convince her to learn more as he uncovered more Jedi texts and teachings. As much as Luke wanted Leia to formally develop her skills - as formally as he could manage with the piecemeal information and training that he had during the first years after the fall of the Empire - she never did. Between dealing with reorganizing the Republic and handling the fallout of the Empire’s collapse, all while raising Ben, there was no time or any desire on her side. She knew that she was strong in the Force, once Luke explained what it was. She could shield her thoughts, could pick up on thoughts and emotions of those around her; Luke was also sure that her endurance, both physical and mental, were enhanced by the Force. 

After, she managed to pull herself out of open space and back to the ship after the explosion, there was no doubt about it. So, she wasn’t exactly surprised when she looked up to see a not quite substantial form that looked like Luke sitting across from her in the Falcon. 

“Either you are a ghost, of I have finally broken down enough to hallucinate,” she said.

Luke blinked, surprised. “Oh! You can see me! I wasn’t sure…”

Leia snorted. “You projected yourself across the galaxy and kissed me on the forehead, but you weren’t sure if I’d see you now?”

“It’s different,” he started, but stopped with a half formed grin, shaking his head. “You’re right. Of course you can see me.”

She smiled, but it faded after a moment. “Is something happening? Is that why you are here…” she gestured to his blue and incorporeal form, “all ghosty?”

Luke shook his head. “I just wanted to see you. To make up for lost time.”

Anger flared hot and bright in Leia’s chest. It had barely been a day since Crait, since Luke had decided to come out of his self-imposed exile, and then died. And now he wanted to make up for lost time? What a waste. She could have used support dealing with the Resistance; she could have supported him through the loss of his temple, his students. They could have supported each other at the turn of Ben to the Darkside. She had never felt so alone as she had on Crait - Han was dead, Amilyn lost, Luke nowhere to be found, her allies silent, her son lost completely to the Dark Side. 

She should be welcoming Luke’s presence now, the brightness of the sunny farmboy and the steadiness of the man he had become. He sent out familiar waves of comfort to her through the Force. 

She wanted none of it. Her mental shields snapped down hard; Luke jumped a little as his connection to her was cut off. 

“If there is nothing important happening, I would like to get some rest. Alone.” Her tone was short, hard.

“I’ll leave, then…” His face somehow looked young and hurt under his grey beard. “But can I come back later?” His hesitation was obvious both in his voice and the traces of his Force signature that Leia could feel. 

Leia gave a short nod. “Later.” She turned back to her bunk and pulled her covers and curled up under them. She pushed away memories of Han, or cuddled up with little Ben. She could block her thoughts from herself as well as others. It was a useful skill. 

*

The next few days were hectic. They found a new site for a base, connected with a few allies, and regrouped. Leia forced herself to stand back and let the new generation of the Resistance do the heavy lifting. She made sure she was available for support and advice, and it was often asked for, as even Poe’s flashbang attitude had been tempered since Crait. No one was raring to go running out and fight, but there was still so much to do.

There were restful moments too, like sitting in a corner of the Falcon and listening to Poe and Rey gently arguing about the best way to fly the old ship, only to have Chewie grumble and put their theories and ideas to shame. Once Rose regained consciousness, she and Finn had a handful of debates, ranging from the Rebellion, to the general state of mess of the Falcon and what to do with the Porgs; when it would get too intense, Rose would grimace against the twinge of a still healing broken rib, and Finn would apologize and try to find ways to make her comfortable, which would make Rose roll her eyes and tell him to relax. Or the four youngsters would sit around the dejarik table, filling each other in on their histories, their fears and hopes for the future. 

It was times like those, when Leia was relaxed but lonely, that she would feel the brush of Luke’s Force presence in her mind. Every time, she closed her thoughts to him, the bright white walls of her mind - now aged and greyed like she was, but still strong - turned away the flood of red and orange from him. She didn’t want to talk yet. She was still angry with him, with herself. It was petty and cruel, but she was feeling selfish. Leia couldn’t avoid him forever, however. Her own flickers of guilt and her loneliness along with Luke’s persistence finally pushed past her stubbornness.

“You know, for a man who was determined to be alone for years while he was alive, you are bound and determined to get noticed now,” Leia said as he appeared in her quarters.

Luke dipped his head, but recovered quickly and looked back up. “I made a mistake. I made so many mistakes. I just want to help as much as I can now. I can’t make up for it, I know.”

Leia was tired. A tired that ran deeper than her bones and settled in some inner recess that had been battered and drained and refilled again and again and again. But this time, it was so much harder to bounce back and find her strength. There should be hope and promise and forward movement - and there was. In Rey and Rose and Poe and Finn. But Leia didn’t care. She had given everything in her life to the galaxy again and again, but it had just taken and never looked back. She had given hope and strength to the galaxy - she had none left for herself. 

Leia didn’t realize she had said any of that out loud until she blinked a wavering layer of tears from her eyes and saw Luke’s face. Guilt and sorrow and a very familiar deeper-than-bone weariness filled his eyes as she fought to steady her breathing. 

“How can I keep fighting this fight when I can see where it leads - to no end. It never ends. I’ve lost my home, my parents, my husband, and now my brother. I gave up on my son. It’s not that I don’t know how to forgive him, but that I gave up on him entirely.Why should I keep fighting? What should I fight for?” She collapsed onto her bed, strength gone. 

Luke couldn’t touch her, no matter how corporeal he looked, but he sat next to her; his Force presence flared bright and warm. Leia sighed and let the comfort he offered her seep through her. 

“I haven’t quite forgiven you, either, for disappearing,” she told him. 

He nodded. “That’s fair.”

“I can understand wanting to give up and run away - but I can’t understand actually doing it.”

Luke chuckled. “And that is exactly why you will keep fighting and help this Rebellion get on its feet and guide it. Because you always have known how to keep moving forward in the face of pain and loss and struggle - you know how to carry the load and not quit.”

“And if I want to?” she asked, voice harsh. “What if I want to be selfish for a change and just run away and leave everyone else to deal with the mess?”

A frown crossed Luke’s face, but he just said, “If that is what you need and want, I can’t stop you, and I won’t. I’ll be here for your either way.”

“Again, ironic that you had to become a ghost for this conversation to happen.” 

“I was wrong and selfish to leave. I was scared and my pride had been destroyed. But that shouldn't have mattered. I should have been around for you…”

For a long minute, neither spoke. There was too much that had happened and not enough words to soothe any of the hurts and losses. All the selfish, burning, dark emotions boiling in Leia’s chest and the back corners of her mind slowly faded. It was so much thankless work to keep fighting. But a lifetime of training herself to turn her emotions into actions made her chamber her sorrows and anger and even her weariness and use it to start thinking of the future, to start sketching plans beyond the day to day necessities of survival with the tiny rebellion. 

“You know,” Luke said, “you were always the best of us.”

She scoffed.

“No, hear me out,” he pressed. “You have been hit with devastation again and again. And yet, you keep moving. You never forget the people who are giving their lives for the cause are individuals. You keep pushing back against the darkness in the galaxy, and that you are afraid is in you, too. You deserve legends, and all of the stark, beautiful truth about you to be known throughout the galaxy. More than this old, foolish Jedi does.”

Leia scoffed again, though she felt tears burn the back of her eyes. She was too old and tired to deal with any of this. “You are only saying this because I am your sister.”

“Partly. But I still thought that before I knew we were related.”

“And you only thought that then because you had a crush on me.”

Luke laughed. “I think I had a crush of some sort on everyone, those early days. You, Han, old Ben…All these wonderful, amazing people who opened the the universe to me.” He smiled at her, warm, open. “If anyone is going to keep the fire of hope alive, it is going to be you.”

“For how much longer, though?” she asked, the weariness and the despair of an unending fight washing over her again. “I can’t keep going forever, and I doubt I’ll be able to Force ghost myself like you’ve done.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” 

Leia sighed. “I’ve cheated death, but I don’t think I’ll be able to avoid it again.” She looked at him. “Well? When I asked how much longer, I wasn’t being entirely rhetorical.” 

“Leia.” His voice was pinched and strained. “I am one with the Force, but not omnipotent.”

“I have a feeling those two things are closer than you want to admit or try.” She sighed again. “I know I have work to do. But there are moments lately when having a - literal - deadline sounds appealing.” 

Luke only managed an inarticulate noise and a ripple of deep distress through the Force before Leia waved away the concern.

“I am not going anywhere without a fight. But I am tired, and hurting on so many levels.” 

“Then rest,” Luke said, the words as much spoken as felt through their bond. “It’s not selfish or weak. It is strategic and needed.”

Leia nodded. “I already have everyone assigned to whatever tasks are needed right now and strict instructions to disturb me only in an emergency.”

Luke blinked and his eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline before he smiled. “Of course you have. You don’t need me to say it. Though I remember having to fight with you to rest when we were younger.”

“I’ve grown wiser in my old age,” she replied. “And no one else is around to argue with me, so I have to make myself do it.”

There was nothing else to say. There was everything to say. They both knew their failings, they knew that forgiveness come eventually. Luke lingered a little longer before disappearing, leaving behind a trace of warmth like a sunset.

Leia stayed in her room, changed into comfortable clothes and ate the food she’d sent for a while ago. Her comlink was muted and she had forced herself to leave her datapad in command room. Finally, she settled down with a cup of tea. The soothing scent and comforting warmth in the mug made her push back against another swell of grief. She had been suddenly reminded of Amilyn gripping her hands, warm and steady, and giving the familiar blessing and hope for the future - “May the Force be with you.” Amilyn was another friend, gone. In so many ways, Leia was utterly alone. Rest and tea would help her gain strength again, but it would never relieve her of that weight entirely. 

She had napped and tried some of the meditations that Luke had taught her. But restlessness drove her out into the quiet of the mostly sleeping base, but she didn’t go to the command room or the mess hall; her steps automatically turned towards the hanger bay. The emergency lights were on, and the Falcon drew her like a magnet. The chill of the night air faded as she slipped up the ramp. For a moment, just inside, she froze. Maybe it was Rey inside; she had fallen in love with the old ship too. Or it could be Poe, insomnia and interest driving him to tinker with and explore the ship he had heard stories and caught glimpses of throughout his childhood. Then, a familiar and nearly silent set of footfalls reassured her. Chewie appeared, nodded to her, and gave a quiet rumble of a question. 

“I just need to rest,” Leia said in reply. “And I miss the Falcon.”

Chewie nodded and stepped next to her and rested his paw on the top of her head. It was a blessing and gesture of comfort all wrapped in one. Leia let a little more of the stress and grief ease out of her, grateful that Chewie was still here, knowing he was still mourning the loss of Han in his own way, and that he would let her alone when she needed it. Chewie murmured a wish for her to rest well, and he left the ship, even if it was more his than anyone else’s at this point. 

Leia made a few laps of the ship, letting herself linger in the memories that cropped up at each step. It hurt, but it was a good pain - so many of her happy memories had happened in that ship. Even moments that had been painful at the time - the first time she had been onboard after Alderaan’s destruction, escaping from Bespin with Han gone and Luke wounded, or all the mild and major arguments with Han, and Ben’s toddler tantrums - were all tinged with warmth, softened with time and affection. She didn’t know how long it would take the current time to turn to a bittersweet memory. There was only the hope that it would. 

She eventually went to the cockpit and lingered in the doorway for a moment. It was too easy to see Han sitting in the pilot’s seat, snipping back at both her and Luke and Chewie grumbling at all of them. It was very easy to remember Ben as a toddler, as a child, as a teen, bouncing between happy eagerness and stubborn surliness as he thought the situation demanded. With a deep breath, she stepped inside and settled into the pilot’s seat. Despite the lingering echoes of both Rey and Poe’s Force signatures - they both had fallen into a sort of love with the ship and that hung around like a whisper - they couldn’t compete with the feeling of Han’s presence still lingering. Leia knew most of it was her own longing, but there was no doubt in her mind that the Falcon would never shake the impression Han. The ship had been his and he had been the ship’s, and time and distance and death could not change that. 

She settled deeper into the seat and pulled the heavy grey coat around her shoulders and fought back a sob. She had put on the Alderaan funeral colors, wrapped her hair into a mourning braid for the loss of Han, the loss of all the pilots and the people of the Hosnian system. There was no way to have known that she would be appropriately attired for the loss of Amilyn, of Luke, and the realization that her son was lost. She couldn’t imagine wearing any other color again. The white of her youthful position of princess was long gone, and the blues and silver greys that she would have worn as queen of Alderaan were not an option, save only as memorial. Losses had piled up on her over the years, and only mourning greys would be appropriate for a long time. She finally let tears fall.

The tears lasted for a while, but they were soft and cleansing. There was nothing, not ever time, that could ease the pain of all of her loses, but she felt lighter, stronger. Moving forward seemed possible again. It would not be easy, because it never was, but she knew she could do it. She always had. If nothing else was left of her legacy - no matter if Luke thought she should have stories and songs sung about her - if she could leave behind the promise that a person could move forward no matter how awful the loss, how long and hard the fight, she would be satisfied.


End file.
